


Acceptable

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [62]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 05:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: After Sherrinford, Mycroft and Greg accept some truths





	Acceptable

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts |Smile

Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade met for a pleasant dinner. The two men have known each other for years. Initially they had met every couple of weeks as the then sergeant with the Metropolitan Police Depart gave status updates on Mycroft’s idiot-genius baby brother, Sherlock to the man who occupied a minor office in the government.

Now a seasoned detective inspector, Lestrade more than understood there was nothing minor about the office Mycroft Holmes’ occupied. The man had immense power and the mantle of responsibility in that power was immense. There were so many secrets Greg held when it came to the two Holmes brothers who butted heads often. Lestrade never broke any confidences between him and Sherlock to Mycroft, not matter how hard Mycroft had tried – and he tried. Nor did he break any confidence of the elder Holmes brother to the younger – and he tried. A grudging respect grew as they accepted they met because each cared for Sherlock Holmes, the World’s Only Consulting Detective, who was often shite at caring for himself.

The respect turned into a friendship and a little over two years ago, the two men stopped pretending they met for status updates and met because they enjoyed each other’s company. They still spoke of the consulting detective, but only as an organic parts of their conversations, if it happened. Sherlock was no longer the primary focus. Mycroft learned that Greg was as ruthless at billiards as he was a playing football on the NSY team as he was dedicated to keeping the citizens of London safe from criminals. Greg learned that with the power and responsibility Mycroft put on himself for his brother, as well as Crown and Country came very little time for recreational pursuits. Still, Mycroft was not so posh that meeting occasionally at a pub for a pint and chips or getting beat at billiards was beneath him. The Iceman had a dry but wicked sense of humor under those bespoke suits. Mycroft's genuine smiles were a rare thing of beauty and Greg had felt so honored the first time he made Mycroft smile and it stayed. Greg made it his personal mission to get Mycroft to smile at least once each time they met.

A few years ago Mycroft was there when Greg ended his horrible marriage with a serial cheating wife. Then less than a year ago, Greg was there at the end of the day when a deep held secret in the form of a psychotic, homicidal sister named Eurus blew up spectacularly in Mycroft’s face.

Greg watched as Mycroft put on his ever stoic mask in the fall out. He had been ostracized by his parents, and had lost some of his vaulted position as the wolves at work tried to take him down in the immediate chaos. The mask crumbled once one rainy morning and Mycroft came to him, the only calm port in the shite storm that had become his life, but nothing since then. Mycroft immersed himself in trying to keep his status and work and maintain the relationship with Sherlock, the only family member still talking to him. That immersion had the side effect of Mycroft cutting off nearly all contact with Greg. There were a few calls, even less texts and no dinners. He missed their dinners. No, he missed Mycroft and suspected he knew why Mycroft was seemingly avoiding him.

“When’s the last time you smiled?” Greg asked at the first dinner they shared together in nearly four months. “I mean really smiled; not your politician’s nonsense. When was the last time you smiled with a joy that reached your eyes?”

When Mycroft suddenly found an intense interest in his food Greg knew the answer. The last time Mycroft had smiled was before everything with Eurus happened and it showed. He was tired and withdrawn, barely hanging on by a thread. That he agreed to dinner after all this time was a silent cry for help that Mycroft did not know needed expressing. The remainder of the dinner was pleasant but strained. Greg could feel Mycroft trying to steel himself to pull away. He knew he could not allow it.

“I know what you’re afraid of.” Greg said quietly as the sedan pulled up to his flat.

“Gregory, what are you talking about? I am not afraid of anything.” It was dark in the sedan. If he were not looking at Mycroft he would have missed that slight tell that just for a moment Mycroft Holmes feared that Greg did know.

“Months after Sherlock jumped from St. Bart’s you admitted to me why.” Greg spoke on as he ignored the Iceman’s bluster. “When Sherlock resurrected, I cursed him and welcomed him back. Your brother had enemies, before James Moriarty, Mycroft, and I did not shy away from him. That was not the first time I was a target because of him and you know this. I say with pride and with honor, as one of the very few who can - I know who you are, Mycroft. I am not afraid that some of the concentric circles in front of me may came from those aiming to get to you. Do you think I hold you in less regard for it?”

“Gregory, you do not know what you are saying.” Mycroft frowned, “My enemies…”

Greg rolled his eyes.

“Your enemies can go piss off. You deserve to find some happiness in your life Mycroft. You fucking deserve to be able to smile from time to time!” Greg said intensely. “What are you going to do Mycroft? Hide? Live the life of a hermit even more than you already do? No! I will not accept that life for you Mycroft Holmes. I will not!”

Frustrated Greg climbed out of the sedan.

“It is my life and you do not get decide that for me!” An angry Mycroft climbed out behind him.

“I’m not doing it just for you, I’m doing it for us, you arse!” Greg yelled.

Mycroft stepped back rendered utterly speechless at the confession. Greg had not meant to say that, but now that it was out he soldiered on.

“You have this one life, Mycroft Holmes. ONE. How do you want to spend what's left of it? With regrets? Always questioning the ‘what ifs’? Hating yourself? Dieting? Being invisible to people who care not one iota to see who you are anyway? My god Mycroft, you’ve done nothing your adult life but dedicate yourself to the care of your country and your brother - only one of whom will give two shites when you die! When do you care for you? I am here, Mycroft. You say that you do not care, that it is not an advantage in order to protect yourself; I’m calling bollocks on that. You do not believe yourself worthy of such, so you push away first to avoid being pushed away. I repeat: I will not accept that life for you.”

Mycroft tried to turn his head away. Greg would not let him, he gently but definitively took him by the chin and held his face so those eyes had no choice but to look into his.

“No. No, you will look at me. You will acknowledge that I am here, that I am standing in front of you saying that _I_ care! I miss your smile. I miss _you_. Be brave and do this one thing for yourself, do this one thing for us. I _care_ Mycroft Holmes. I love you - please let me.”

His gaze was unwavering as he stared earnestly into Mycroft’s eyes. 

Mycroft raised his hand to Greg’s hand that had opened from its hold of Mycroft’s chin to cup it. Mycroft’s hand was warm and trembled slightly as it rested on Greg’s wrist. His blue eyes, rendered a pale grey in the street light, searched his face desperately as he tried to find the slightest hesitation in Greg.

There was none to be found, for in that moment Gregory knew without doubt that Mycroft loved him as well.

“Please?” Greg implored. He slipped his hand into Mycroft’s, turned and took a couple of steps toward his flat.

Greg felt the pull as Mycroft remained in place, but did not let go. He turned back and Mycroft was smiling. 

It was tremulous at first, but widened in honest pleasure. “You do make me smile, Gregory. Only you.”

Mycroft bent back into the car and spoke to the driver, then used his hip to close the sedan door before he stepped close to Greg.

“For me. For _us_?” he whispered.

Greg nodded too overjoyed to speak as Mycroft closed the minute distance between them.

“I love you also, Gregory.” Mycroft beamed with a radiance Greg had never seen before, but instinctively knew he would see again and again. Decision made, Mycroft angled in for their first kiss. “Is that acceptable to you?”

Greg beamed with his own smile as their lips met.

“Yes.”


End file.
